


Longing for Affection

by ImmaDeckYouInTheShnoz



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Also Mitsuki and Iori aren't siblings in this even if they have the same last name, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone in i7 is bad at being emotionally stable, Everyone is depressed and sad, Friendship, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Very loosely based off of MR AFFECTION
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26546608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImmaDeckYouInTheShnoz/pseuds/ImmaDeckYouInTheShnoz
Summary: Iori Izumi was the seventeen-year-old idol prodigy, perfect in every way. Yamato Nikaido was a man who had given up on life, content to live a life of nothingness. Mitsuki Izumi was a person who had always wanted more from his life, and had big aspirations but could never achieve them. Tamaki Yotsuba had long lost his sister, now spending his days skipping school and stealing pudding. Sougo Osaka was tired of living in a world that seemed to reject what he wanted to be, forcing him to play a role that he did not want to. Nagi Rokuya, suffering from the recent loss of the person dearest to him, moved to that person's home country to discover what was special about it. Nanase Riku no longer felt wanted in the world, abandoned by his brother, unwanted by his parents and wondering if there was anything left to live for.Brought together by chance, they learn to mend themselves and help each other, forming bonds and friendships that would never break.
Relationships: Izumi Iori/Nanase Riku, Izumi Mitsuki/Nikaidou Yamato/Rokuya Nagi, Kujou Ten & Nanase Riku, Kujou Ten/Tsunashi Ryuunosuke/Yaotome Gaku (minor), Ousaka Sougo/Yotsuba Tamaki
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	1. Perfection Gimmick

**Author's Note:**

> (I don't know how to put a chapter one summary instead of the fic summary, so I'm going to put it here.)  
> Iori Izumi is a rapidly growing solo idol. Everyone around him expects him to be perfect, the pressure of having to please fans as well as pressure from his family to be a perfect son weighing heavily on him. Iori is tired and cynical, although he still has kindness lying underneath the barrier of cold, calculated perfection he has built up around himself.

Iori Izumi had one dream. He wished there was someone who would want him as he was. Flawed. Imperfect. Iori never believed that his dream would ever be fulfilled.  
  
Iori smiled and waved at a sea of faces he didn't know. He chatted with the interviewer and lied flawlessly. The performance was easy as it always was. He went through the motions like the hands on a clock. A fake smile here, a fake laugh there. He was the embodiment of perfection. That's what Iori constantly heard. He was perfect. However, his perfect self was simply a mask. The tip of the iceberg.  
  
Iori was bitter, cold and cynical. A mere seventeen-year-old reduced to lying and pretending to claw his way up to the top. His logical mind overruled his empathy and he had trampled on many people to get to where he was now. He stopped getting close to people. He didn't want to see their faces when he eventually had to betray them to serve his own selfish needs.

The kindness and sensitivity Iori had originally possessed had been buried. Pushed to the back of his mind. To the bottom of the ice. He had thrown any chance of possible human connections away. He wasn't lonely. He wasn't. The mantra was repeated in his head constantly. His logical mind refused to believe it. Emotions no longer existed inside Iori Izumi. 

School didn't excite him. It was much too easy to complete classwork even with his schedule, despite the group projects when his class put him with the one boy who always skipped class. Iori wouldn't call himself a genius, but he certainly wasn't stupid. His classmates, when he saw them, knew him by the perfect persona he had fabricated so expertly. He couldn’t blame them. He hardly saw them anyways. 

Even Iori’s parents were fooled by his act. It had been his act since he was a child. His mask that he slipped on to reap better rewards. The only time he ever felt truly free was when he was expressing himself through music. However, his music was as empty as the void in his chest. 

Iori finished his essay and finished memorizing his newest song while in the car ride to the company he worked for. It was easy, of course. Everything was easy for him now. He thanked the driver and walked to the company. He was welcomed back by the receptionist whose name he did not remember. He responded with a smile and exchanged a short conversation with the receptionist, before returning to his room upstairs. 

He was greeted in his room by his new manager, who replaced the old one who had altered his world so drastically. He greeted his manager, not bothering to hide how he truly acted around her. She congratulated him on his most recent successes, which Iori felt was unnecessary to discuss, as he already knew of his achievements. As much as he hated his old manager, with his tacky suit and a ratty demeanour, he preferred the way they handled business together. It was a lot more straightforward than exchanging niceties with his new manager. 

Even so, he liked his current manager. She was kind and caring, although Iori wished she would care less. He knew that he would eventually hurt her too. Iori sighed and sat down, quietly singing the lyrics to his newest song. His manager complimented him, but her words fell on deaf ears. Iori heard the same things every single day, the compliments gradually losing their meaning to him. However, he always felt an odd feeling pooling in his stomach whenever he pushed his new manager away, especially when he saw her smile falter, before returning to its usual state. He knew she was fiercely determined to get through to him, which is why he did not want to keep her around much longer.  
  
Iori stared at the floor. “Manager-san.”  
“Yes, Izumi-san?” His manager inquired politely.  
“It’s… not your fault…” He softly whispered.  
“What isn’t…?” He heard her say, although his eyes were still staring at the hardwood floor.  
“You’re fired.”  
  
He couldn’t look at her in the eyes as she asked repeatedly what she had done wrong. Iori could hear her crying, begging him not to let her go. He sighed and stood up. He slowly opened the door, then walked out of the room, and walked out of the building. He numbly wondered who his new manager would be, and what they would be like. He hoped that his new manager wouldn’t be kind, or understanding. He didn’t deserve that.  
  
The next day, he walked into his workplace and his team curtly told him they had hired a new manager for him. Iori nodded and asked when he would meet this new manager. He was informed that he would be meeting his new manager in a few hours. _How unorganized..._ Iori thought to himself. _I have an interview soon, and I don’t have a manager. Maybe the new manager is lazy._ Iori went on his phone and texted his now-former manager, asking if she was alright, against his better judgement. He got no reply. He texted her again, apologizing for firing her. He saw that she was typing, then abruptly stopped. No reply. 

He sighed and put away his phone, opting instead to prepare for his next interview. He slipped on his clothes for his performance and allowed the crew to attend to his various needs. He carefully stepped into his expensive car after he was finally ready, which took half an hour, an absurdly long time in Iori’s opinion, not that he would ever tell anyone that. He stared at his phone cautiously, waiting for a reply, hoping that his former manager would keep trying to reach through to him, even when she had seen _that_ side of him. No reply. Iori stared out of the window. _I should have expected that._ He thought to himself. _Why did I expect anything different?_  
  
Stepping onto the stage, he put on the mask he was so used to, and smiled for his fans, secretly wishing he never chose this life at all. Secretly wishing people knew the true him. Flawed. Imperfect. He desperately wanted someone, anyone, to understand him, and to want him, just as he is. Some kind of validation that wasn’t just about his so-called perfection that he didn’t truly possess. Someone he could talk to, enjoy talking to, and finally open up to. He wanted the rest of the iceberg to be visible, not just the tip. He knew that special person would never come. His mask smiled, then started to sing. 


	2. I need glasses.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamato glanced out of his window, staring out at the dark of the night. He liked this enclosed space, he really did. He liked the quiet, the dark, being alone with himself and his thoughts. He didn’t need anyone. He didn’t. Why would he? He stayed in his chair, sipping his beer. He had chosen this life. It was a life of laziness and contentment. He didn’t need anything more than this.
> 
> Right?

Yamato Nikaido had two things on his list of priorities. Drinking and sleeping. He was perfectly content as long as he could do those two things. He was entirely happy spending his whole life doing nothing but staying in his small, messy and almost empty apartment. He had his roombas and his beer, satisfied with his current lifestyle. He had left behind a normal life a long time ago. He leaned back in his chair, popping open what was probably his 5th can of beer in that hour, watching his roomba move around the room. Meaningless noise blared from the TV. He stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the emptiness in his chest.    
  
He heard a voice he never wanted to hear again. He turned his gaze towards the TV, seeing the face of someone he never wanted to see again. He pushed his glasses up. That man stood tall and proud, exactly as Yamato remembered him. He began speaking, causing memories to flood through Yamato. He wanted to turn off the television, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. He couldn’t move, eyes glued on the screen. He glared at the man who he used to respect and love.   
  
“Hello. I am Chiba Shizuo.”   
_ I know that. Of course I know that. _ _   
  
_

“I am happy to be here.”   
_ Don’t smile you damned old man! You were never happy to be there with me. _ _   
_ _   
_ “I hope that you all enjoy.”    
_ Enjoy what? Your acting? I don’t want to see it anymore. You were always acting around me. _ _   
_ _   
_ His sour thoughts kept rushing in, devouring his mind. The small apartment suddenly felt a lot smaller. He glared venomously at the man who had single-handedly shattered his entire world view. It was because of him that Yamato had the life he was living now. A life of self-inflicted solitude. Was he content with it? Was he really happy with this? Yamato didn’t care. It was better than a life of lies. Lies built by the man who was in front of his eyes. He threw his half-full can of beer at the television, watching the liquid splatter then slowly drip down. Of course, the man kept speaking. Yamato stood up. He kicked the image of the man he hated. He picked up the television and smashed it against the floor. He continued picking it up and throwing it down, like a child having a temper tantrum. He went to grab the nearest thing he could smash into the small box.    
  
Suddenly, he stopped. Realization hit him as he looked at the nearly empty apartment. There was nothing there. A chair, a bed, cans of beer and his precious roomba. He looked back down at the television. He hadn’t thrown it as hard as he thought he had. The voice of his father spoke to him once more. He sighed, pushing up his glasses, then picked up the remote. With a click, the screen went dark.    
  
Yamato allowed himself to fall, his chair catching him. He closed his eyes, willing his anger and boredom to disappear. They didn’t. Still, he didn’t move. He couldn’t be bothered to. He wondered if he regretted any of the decisions he had made. He tried to convince himself that he didn’t. He had made the right choices. None of this was his fault. Except it was. It was his fault. It was his decision to retreat into reclusiveness. His decision to abandon his life, his job and his friends behind.    
  
_ Was I wrong? It’s not like I enjoyed my job anyways. I didn’t lose anything by leaving. _ _   
_ _   
_ A memory flashed through him. He was on set with his father. He acted perfectly, gaining praise from those around him.    
  
_ The only person whose praise mattered was his. _ _   
_ _   
_ His father smiled at him, telling him that he was proud of Yamato. He remembered how he used to light up from those words. A small smile crept onto his face as he recalled more of that day. It immediately disappeared as he recalled the shock and hatred that ran through him as he found out about his father’s secret. His hands balled into fists. He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. He could feel the tears slip from the corners of his eyes. The black hole inside his chest grew. He pushed his glasses up.    
  
He tried to repress the memories, but it was too late. The flood gate had been opened. He recalled the way he angrily shouted at his father, denounced him and all that he stood for. He would never again respect him, never again idolize him, never again want to get close to anyone. He feared that it would turn out the same way. So he never got close. He recalled the faces of his old friends, the way he would laugh with them and enjoy being around them. He remembered the way he tossed them aside harshly, their shocked and hurt expressions haunting his thoughts. Again, he wondered if he was in the wrong.   
  
_ That wasn’t wrong either. They were just as bad. Everyone is just as bad as him.  _ _   
_ _   
_ He remembered that one hardworking orange-haired worker at his other old workplace. The smiles and respect he had shown him despite knowing how lazy and broken Yamato truly was. More memories of the good times he had shared with his friends surfaced in his mind. He remembered the way they dragged him along to every get-together, the smiles he shared with them.    
  
_ No, I was wrong. Not everybody is like him. Especially not them. I guess it really is my fault, huh? _ _   
_ _   
_ Yamato laughed to himself, the hoarseness of his own voice startling him. He took his glasses off. He didn’t need them anyway. He had hated the life of lies that his father had created, yet here he was. Lying to himself. Saying that he was happy and content, thinking he was right. He wasn't. He wasn't happy or content. Regret and guilt flooded him. He had left behind everything he wanted. He hid because he was scared. He was a coward, after all. Yamato sighed. Beer wasn’t enough anymore.   
  
Yamato wiped his tears away gently before putting his glasses back on. He stood up, looking back at the nearly empty apartment. There was nothing there. A chair, a bed, cans of beer and his precious roomba. He turned to the door and opened it. Everything was out there. Yamato sighed, stepping out of his apartment for the first time in a while. The cold air hit him, making him want to run back inside to the comfort of his apartment. He shook his head, forcing himself to walk.   
  
He made his way to somewhere he was all too familiar with. As he was walking, he looked around at the world he had been missing out on. Had he missed it? He didn’t think so. The emptiness was still there. He needed a drink. He arrived at the bar that he and his friends used to frequent. Would he see one of them there? He hoped not. He entered the bar, sitting down next to a tall yellow-haired man. He ordered a drink. He drank, hoping it would ease the emptiness he felt.    
  
_ I’m going to be okay. _ __   
__   
He pushed his glasses up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Back with another chapter! It took longer than I expected...   
> Yamato chapter this time!  
> I did three rewrites of this one chapter because I wasn't sure if I was portraying Yamato right.  
> I settled with this one, so, I hope I made the right decision!  
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and I'll get chapter 3 out as soon as I can.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This is going to be a long fanfic, hopefully I'll be able to finish it...  
> I started writing this months ago, and I'm now picking this idea back up and trying by best to complete it.  
> This is a very ambitious project, and I have no idea if I'll be able to finish this, but since I have a bunch of free time for a while I have plenty of time on my hands.  
> I hope you enjoy reading!


End file.
